


Feeling It Out (So Hard To See)

by daggerandtherose



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Coming Out, Domestic Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Internalised Homophobia, M/M, kind of i mean it's really not in detail at all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-04 22:08:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15156644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daggerandtherose/pseuds/daggerandtherose
Summary: Louis and Harry are best friends. In fact, they're closer than best friends. They're practically married. But neither truly understand the extent of their feelings for each other until they drunkenly kiss one night and it all goes a little bit wrong.





	Feeling It Out (So Hard To See)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gruberando](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gruberando/gifts).



> for gruberando
> 
> \- I kind of went off topic whilst trying to combine all of your prompts and I love writing it. Basically I had a few ideas and got carried away with them, but I tried my best and really really hope you like it.
> 
> my amazing beta, Jess
> 
> \- I love you for putting up with my whiny, procrastinating ass. You deserve the world.
> 
> title: a mixture of lyrics from Medicine (Harry Styles) and Loving Is Easy (Rex Orange County) that I felt appropriately described the basis of this fic.

~~~

 

Louis hates how he uses Harry as an escape. He doesn’t mean to use him, so to say, but it’s just so easy to drop what he’s doing and walk over to the house and flop onto Harry’s bed when he’s too stressed out and let Harry preen over him to make him forget about his worries.

 

“I don’t want to do it anymore.”

 

Louis waits for a response, but nothing comes. He raises his head from Harry’s pillow, glancing at the boy working at the desk in exactly the same position that he was in when Louis walked into the room. How dare he not pay Louis any attention, when attention was the reason Louis graced Harry with his presence in the first place. He groaned out a sigh and huffed back into the pillow.

 

“Pay attention to me! I’m dropping out and then I don’t have to do it anymore.” Louis was not above being whiny when his dissertation was not going as easy as he’d hoped.

 

“No, you’re not.” Harry replied, without looking away from his laptop.

 

“Don’t tell me what to do. You can’t stop me.” Petulance was the next level up from whining. Louis was almost prepared to go the whole way and perform a brilliantly executed toddler-style tantrum if Harry wasn’t going to play into his hands like Louis wanted.

 

“Stop being whiny. You’re not dropping out because it’s a waste of the past three years. You’re gonna finish your dissertation because you need to graduate. Now, if you’re staying, be quiet so I can try and finish this essay.”

 

Louis peered up at Harry again. He still hadn’t turned around from his desk, and Louis wasn’t happy that the attention he required wasn’t being given. It was in his right mind to march over and drag Harry onto the bed to give him a cuddle. Or, even better, into the kitchen to cook him a dinner that wasn’t three-day old pasta bake or frozen pizza. But he wasn’t sure how important Harry’s essay was and, if it was important, Harry might send Louis home.

 

He did that once before and Louis felt terrible because it takes a lot for Harry to get mad at him, so he took him out for a celebratory dinner once the essay had been submitted and the pair got successfully wasted from Louis’ wallet. And Louis wanted to stay, because if he went home he would feel guilty that all of his dissertation research was on the kitchen table and he wasn’t writing any of it up. So, he crawled under the duvet and turned the PlayStation on to continue his abuse on Harry’s Netflix account.

 

“Whatever, I don’t want your attention anyways.” Louis mumbled under his breath, and Harry just huffed out a laugh.

 

 

…………………………………………………………………………………………

 

 

When Louis met Harry, he was a bushy-haired, wide-eyed fresher, amazed to be at an actual second-year house party in only his second week of university. Considering the heat of the room that was holding way too many people than was probably legal, he was wearing two unbuttoned flannels over a white t-shirt, and Louis couldn’t stop thinking how this boy wasn’t passed out from overheating. But he was cute, sexy cute, not necessarily Louis’ type but he wouldn’t say no, and Louis couldn’t take his eyes away as the boy strutted straight towards him.

 

“Hi, I’m Harry” The grin on his face met each ear, and Louis just gave an amused smirk at this too-excited boy in front of him.

 

“Hi Harry.” Harry’s smile grew even larger. “This party is guest list only, and I don’t know who you are.”

 

Louis leant against the kitchen counter, cocky as ever, and popped his hip out so his shirt rode up over his boxer waistband. He was on his way to being drunk, and he was mean-flirting. Louis only pulls out the mean-flirting when he’s the most interested.

 

“Liam told me you could show me where the drinks are? I thought they’d be in the kitchen,” Harry, who also seemed to be on the tipsy side, gestured to his surroundings, ignoring Louis’ indirect question, “but to no avail.”

 

“It’s BYOB, so you’re out of luck if you’ve come empty handed. And I also don’t know a Liam, so it seems like you’re at the wrong party.” 

 

Louis kept the smirk on his face, sipping the gin-based mix that had wound up in his cup through the night. He subtly fiddled with his shirt, keeping his eyes on Harry, pulling it down at the hem. The maroon shirt he had adorned this particular evening was renowned as his pulling shirt by his friends because of the way in emphasised the dips in his collarbones and the veins in his neck.

 

“I’ve seen Zayn, so this is definitely the right party. Liam knows Zayn from home, and I live with Liam. He said it was cool that I came.”

 

Ah, Harry was a fresher. Zayn had mentioned Liam more often than not since term started back up, so Louis knew all about him.

 

_“I’m not gonna fuck him, Lou.”_

_“But you_ want _to fuck him.”_

_“He is one of my best mates back home. I don’t even think he’s into guys.”_

_“That wasn’t a no.”_

_“Fuck you.”_

_“Don’t you mean fuck him?”_

Louis had managed to avoid the first years so far. Having spent the past year learning the best spots in town, he and Zayn had succeeded in enjoying their second-year “Re-Freshers” with five nights out on the trot and no overly drunk, spotty faced or under-dressed eighteen-year olds wearing their high-school tie ruining it for them.

 

Louis remembers his own Fresher’s week well. He had tried his best to be his normal self but was so internally nervous that spent too long of a time making other people laugh at his expense in the pursuit of making “friends”. If he’s honest, he now only speaks to about 10 of the people he met back then. Yet, when the time came for Louis to be serious, like talking to sober people on his course for instance, he almost pissed his pants every time. He would never admit it now, but he was homesick for the longest time, and it took him a while to actually start enjoying his new life.

 

But any fresher inhibitions that were common with first years eluded Harry completely, and it was his unabashed confidence that drew Louis to him even more so.

 

“I see, well I suppose you can stay then.” Yet again. Harry’s smile grew.

 

Louis noticeably looked the boy up and down, taking his time to drag his eyes across the body in front of him. Harrys’ toes, clad in brown leather boots, pointed inwards; Louis could tell Harry knew what he was doing when his feet awkwardly shuffled from side to side. Legs wrapped in the tightest black jeans went on for miles, and Louis couldn’t stop himself from slipping his tongue between his lips to wet them at the sight. Once he finally pulled his gaze away from the ripped collar on Harry’s t-shirt, he smirked wider at the subtle blush on Harry’s cheeks.

 

Louis ran his finger around the rim of his cup, moving slightly closer along the counter towards Harry.

 

“So, are you actually going to find yourself a drink or are you gonna stand here staring at me all night?”

 

“You’re quite full of yourself, aren’t you Louis?” 

 

The corner of Harry’s lip raised in a knowing smile, stunning Louis with dimples deeper than the Grand Canyon. The image of Harry’s plump lips wrapped around a straw, cheeks hollowed to highlight just how deep those dimples went ran through Louis’ mind. Louis was mesmerised, and very, _very_ attracted to this man. He needed to get him a drink immediately.

 

“It’s all justified,” Louis started, eyes still glued to Harry’s cheeks, “but I distinctly remember not telling you my name, so now I’m starting to think you’re obsessed with me?

 

Harry scoffed, and Louis was disappointed at the loss of the dimples.

 

“Do you actually know Liam? Maybe you’re just a serial killer and I’m your next victim.”

 

Louis winced a little at just how obvious he was being but refused to be ashamed.

 

“Mate, Liam pointed you out,” How could Harry rolling his eyes be so hot? “I just wanted a drink, and you still haven’t shown me where they are.”

 

Without replying, Louis grabbed Harry’s wrist and dragged him into the hallway and up the stairs, swaying his hips in a very obvious fashion. He was a respectable gentleman but was always one to flaunt his best bits.

 

Louis stopped outside his bedroom door, and Harry suddenly pulled back against Louis’ grip.

 

“Um, I’m-” When Louis turned back, Harry’s features had lost all their confidence and worry was plastered across his face. Harry moved a few steps back, looking towards the staircase. “I’m not sure… I think you’ve… maybe I should find Liam.”

 

Louis saw the apprehension so dropped the flirting act immediately. He understood boundaries, and if Harry wasn’t feeling it, then neither was he. Instead, he forced out what he hoped was a friendly smile and rattled the handle on his door.

 

“You want a drink first?” A key from Louis’ back pocket opened the door and Louis stepped in.

 

“I don’t want… I’m not-”

 

It was obvious to Louis that Harry was trying to keep his cool but freaking out inside. Pulling someone might just be on Louis’ to-do list for the night; panicking a first year, a stranger even, was not. He reaches his hand out and tugs down on one of Harry’s curls.

 

“I moved all of my alcohol into my room, so it wouldn’t go wandering into strangers’ hands tonight. But I like you, so I’ll make an exception. There’s spirits, beer, more spirits…”  The unnerved look in Harry’s face was replaced by a timid smile, “or you can stay sober for the rest of the night?”

 

Louis didn’t go back down to the party that night, even turned down an opportunity to continue his undefeated title when his beer-pong-arch-rival Sam came to find him. All that Harry needed was a vodka lemonade in his hand to get him back to the personality he showed in the kitchen. The pair were almost peeing themselves with laughter at the embarrassing stories shared, and when Harry snorted at an awful joke he made whilst drinking, it went the wrong way and came out of his nose. Louis couldn’t breathe.

 

Vodka turned into gin after drink three, and that was it for Harry. His face was so rosy that it could’ve passed for sunburn as he laid with Louis on the bed, legs up in the air against the wall. His words were a little slurred, drink six forgotten about on the side table as Louis listened to his rant about not being ready for university. Harry eyes were fixed on the ceiling, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as Louis head fell to the side, watching the boy.

 

“I don’t even, like, _know…_ ” Harry had subtle hiccups between every few words, and Louis was more than endeared. “Like I’m good at maths and it has money but like, it’s _so boring Lou_ , you know what I mean?”

 

Louis chuckled slightly, knocking his foot against Harry’s.

 

“Sorry mate, dropped maths at the first chance I got. Barely remember my times tables.” Harry laughed at this, and Louis beamed at the attention.

 

Harry’s head tipped to get eye to eye with Louis. The smile had gone. “Lou,”

 

Louis knew that look. He knew exactly what was coming, but he wasn’t quick enough.

 

“I think I’m gonna…” Louis just managed to move his head out of the way in time as Harry vomited onto the duvet.

 

He rolled off the bed, getting Harry up with him. Harry’s body was too heavy for Louis to take all of his weight, so Louis propped him up against the bed on the floor with the bin next to him. Harry was crying apologies like there was no tomorrow, but Louis was so enamoured by the boy that he couldn’t care. Harry might not have been attracted to him, that was fair enough, but he had made such an impact on Louis that it wasn’t really an issue. Louis was so happy in Harry’s company that it didn’t matter if he fancied him or not.

 

Harry fell asleep on Louis’ floor that night. When Liam came to find him not long after, he just laughed and went back to hanging out with Zayn. And when Harry woke up in the morning, Louis threw the clean side of the balled-up, dirty sheets at this face and Harry let out a throaty, pained groan at the smell. Louis couldn’t help but laugh.

 

 

 

After that it was easy. Zayn and Liam hung out a lot, often at the house (because Harry and Liam’s halls flat was vile, and the living space could barely fit a sofa in it), and that meant Harry was round a lot too. Louis immediately had Harry wrapped around his little fingerin a way that made Harry extremely subservient to Louis’ every word. It wasn’t pushing the boundaries though, he just loved to make Louis happy. Harry cooked him dinner, which Louis exploited more than he liked to admit, gave abundant cuddles, and in return Louis was the most loyal and protective friend Harry could ever imagine. The two wrapped themselves into their own bubble: not closed off from the world entirely, but they came as a pair more often than not. And whilst there were no qualms over Louis’ sexuality, they never mentioned Louis’ poor attempt at trying to hit on Harry again.

 

 

…………………………………………………………………………………………

 

 

Having finished the last episode of _Blue Planet,_ Louis was five minutes into scrolling through Netflix for a new documentary, or maybe he was feeling a cartoon, when a body crawled up behind him under the covers. He smiled to himself privately and relaxed back into Harry. He’s never been one for long term relationships, or even regular hook-ups really, so he cherishes moments like this with Harry where he can settle and capitulate under another person’s affection.  Louis was feeling more tired than whiny now and could easily fall asleep in the position he was in, despite it only being early evening.

 

“Did you know you can’t pee in a submarine?” Harry quiet chuckle blew cold air over the back of Louis’ neck. Louis shuddered at the sensation.

 

“Something to do with the pressure down there,” Louis continued, “but they go down for like ten hours and have to hold it the whole time. Maybe your bladder bursts or something.”

 

Harry stayed quiet for a while after Louis finished speaking, but Louis was happy feeling content and lazy in his bed with Harry’s arm draped haphazardly over his waist. He was almost dozing off when Harry broke the amicable silence.

 

“Is La Malinche bothering you again?” Louis turned over to face Harry, who pushed matted hair off of Louis’ forehead.

 

“Cortés actually, bit of a dick if I’m honest. Couldn’t just settle with conquering Cuba, had to get greedy and go for the Aztecs too.” Louis moved into the crook of Harry’s arm. It was easy to not worry about the piling amount of work he still had to do when he had Harry’s fingers lightly grazing his arm, an inadvertent action from Harry that soothed and calmed Louis to no end.  “You done with the essay?”

 

Harry knocked his head into Louis with a deep sigh.

 

“Not quite. Got a few calculations to look over still, but my eyes are getting fuzzy, so I can leave that for another day.”

 

Louis has many arguments against anyone who says that History is an easy degree, because it definitely was not. Do they know how hard it is to argue a point that may not even be true? Even harder when you are specialising in an ancient topic, like Louis was, and the amount of evidence and sources available was minimal. But Louis was very glad that he did not pick a math-based subject like Accounting. All the numbers and letters and equations that Harry assured actually meant something looked so complicated that it hurt Louis’ brain just thinking about it.

 

“You want some dinner?”

 

Harry looked at Louis with a knowing smirk when he groaned in delight. Louis’ plan had worked, even if he was sure that Harry had sussed him out the second Louis walked into his room.

 

“I love you, Harry Styles. God was feeling generous when he brought you into my life.”

 

 

…………………………………………………………………………………………

 

 

It was cold for November. The clocks had only just turned back, and yet everyone was decked out in thick coats and the full hate, scarf and gloves get up. It had become tradition to head down to the beach on the 5th. Zayn and Louis had been drunk and ended up there on their first year, bringing Harry, Niall and Liam with them the next year. This year they had expanded further.

 

There was an obvious two-tier system in their friendship group. Louis, Harry, Zayn, Liam and Niall were at the top; they were the closest friends, and the rest of the group gravitated around them. They consisted of course mates, flatmates and the like, but the five were the centre of it all. With the boys today were the rest of Harry, Niall and Liam’s house, Jack from Louis’ casual 5-a-side football team and Jack’s friend Zoe.

 

As the tradition went, they had set up a little fire, not entirely sure if that was allowed but no one had stopped them yet, and ate the best fish and chips in the country on the sand. Despite the cold and the dark, a few of the boys were kicking a ball around not far away. Zoe and Louis were unpacking the food parcels on a towel, calling everyone to come and eat.

 

“Hey Louis,” Zoe started, not meeting Louis’s eyes, “you’re good friends with Harry, right?”

 

Louis couldn’t help but be confused at the question. He didn’t know Zoe that well, had only met her on a few nights out with Jack, but they knew each other enough for her to already know the answer to her question.

 

“Yeah…” He dragged out the word to encourage Zoe to continue. He watched the girl tuck hair behind her ear and saw red cheeks, too red to just be from the cold.

 

“Is he- like is he seeing anyone right now?” The words were so rushed that Louis almost didn’t catch them.

 

The question stuck with Louis. He knew the answer, but something was stopping him from speaking, and he couldn’t quite place his finger on what.

 

He was brought out of his thoughts by Zoe’s innocent yet intense stare.

 

“Huh?”

 

“Is Harry single?”

 

Zoe was very pretty. Louis wasn’t entirely sure what Harry’s type was, but he’d be a fool to not think the same.

 

“Uh, yeah. I’m pretty sure he’s single, yeah.”

 

Louis busied himself by putting out the wooden forks on each box and settling himself on his towel, but he didn’t miss Zoe’s quiet “cool” and private smile.

 

Harry came bounding over, last one to reach the fire, and nudged Louis over to sit with him.

 

“Oi, get your own towel.” There was no malice behind his words, and by Harry’s wide grin when Louis passed him his food, he knew it too.

 

“It’s cold Lou, need you to warm me up.”

 

Louis rolled his eyes, ever so slightly leaning in to Harry’s side.

 

“There’s a fire right there.”

 

“But-”

 

“Shut up and eat your chips.”

 

Harry overexaggerated shoving a forkful of chips in his mouth and playfully elbowed Louis’ rib cage.

 

As Louis ate, his attention kept swaying to Zoe. Since she had not-so-subtly mentioned her liking for Harry, Louis had started to notice her quick glances at the boy, and slightly flirtatious body language whenever Harry spoke to her. Louis had that weird feeling again.

 

He shouldn’t have, but he couldn’t help himself from mentioning it.

 

“So,” Harry hummed in response, attempting to cut his fish up with the blunt side of the wooden fork. “I think Zoe might fancy you.”

 

Harry looked up, using his gloved finger to help balance his food on his fork as he brought it to his mouth. His gaze went from Louis, to Zoe, back to Louis, and back to his food.

 

“Really? Huh.”

 

His response wasn’t what Louis expected. Harry’s voice sounded surprised, a little bit interested, but mostly nonchalant about the revelation. Louis assumed he would have more to say.

 

“You think you’re gonna go there?” Louis wanted more.

 

“Um, I don’t know. Maybe.”

 

Harry’s interest was lost to the remnants of his meal, and that was the end of that conversation. Louis was beyond confused, but dropped it.

 

There was an amicable peacefulness among the group, casual chat that Harry and Louis piped up into every now and then. But it was moments like these that Louis loved the most about university, chilled out and laughing with some of his best mates. The kind of mates that he knew would still be there for him in twenty years.

 

“I wish we had come here more often in the summer.”

 

Harry’s words were soft, quiet enough for only Louis to hear. When Louis looked, Harry’s stare was fixed on the horizon. The others continued their conversation without them.

 

“I bet laying in the sun would be lovely, and the sea would be nice if it was warmer.”

 

Louis took in Harry’s face. The light from the fire cast a beautiful glow across his features. Wind burn and cold spread red across his cheeks and nose. A lax smile barely there and eyes showing the boy deep in thought.

 

He remembered the brief stint the five of them had made in Spain the summer before. A five-day trip to Ibiza, under the promise of sun, alcohol and _Pacha_ nightclub. Really, it had enlisted Niall getting food poisoning on night one and spending the rest of the trip in his room. Harry got severe sunburn, despite everyone reminding him to wear sun cream, which meant staying in the shade during the day and walking around shirtless at night because the cotton rubbing against his skin was too painful. And then to top it all off, Zayn lost his passport an hour before they were supposed to leave for the airport and he and Louis had to stay an extra day, begging to British embassy to let him home, only for the hotel to ring as they finally received Zayn’s signed documents saying someone had found his passport by the pool. Louis made it to _Pacha_ once.

 

Eventful was not the word to describe it, but it was one of the funniest weeks of Louis’ life.

 

Louis knocked his knee against Harry to get his attention.

 

“Bet you wouldn’t go in the sea right now.”

 

Harry’s face was the epitome of intrigue and confusion, and Louis just gave a shit-eating grin in return.

 

“No Louis, I probably wouldn’t, seeing as the North Sea isn’t renowned for its warmth in November and I’d rather not freeze.”

 

Harry’s sarcasm on egged Louis on.

 

“Pussy.”

 

“Oh and you would, huh?”

 

“Try me.”

 

The pair were staring each other down, smiles wide enough to reach their eyes.

 

“Odds?” Louis started, now desperate to see how far he could push the boy.

 

 Liam’s voice brought the pair out of their bubble.

 

“What are you two smiling about?”

 

Louis turned to the group, leaving Harry with a sly wink.

 

“Odds on Harry going skinny dipping.”

 

“Uh I’m definitely not doing it if you’re not!” Harry protested beside him.

 

“Fine, odds on _us_ going skinny dipping.”

 

There was a mixed response from the group. Louis knew the idea was insane, and that was reflected by Niall’s “ _don’t be stupid lads”,_ but Jack and Zayn’s laughter only encouraged him more.

 

“C’mon, give us a number.”

 

Armed with “ _you’ll freeze”_ and “ _idiots”,_ someone finally settled on the number fifty and Louis turned back to Harry, grins still present.

 

“One to fifty, okay?”

 

“Count us down buddy.”

 

Liam set them up with a _3, 2, 1_. Simultaneously, Harry and Louis both shouted, “28!”

 

The group went quiet. The two stared at each other, smiles not fading but fear and excitement showing in their eyes. All it took was Jack’s cheering to get them going. Coats, scarfs, hats, jumpers, trousers. Louis felt the cold hit his skin and was already regretting the decision to taunt Harry but there was no going back now. The pair shed their pants, cupping themselves in one hand with laughter and cheers from the rest of the group.

 

“Oh fucking hell, it’s cold,” spat Louis through gritted teeth, jumping on the spot to try and stimulate his body heat.

 

“It was your idea!” Harry’s movements mimicked Louis’; they were both insane to go along with this. “C’mon, socks off. Last one in the water loses.”

 

Louis was not one to turn down a competition. He set off sprinting towards the coast, stripping his socks as he went. He could hear Harry’s laughter coming up behind him before he could see him. Metres away from the water line and not one to lose, Louis stuck his arm out to the side and latched on to Harry’s wrist, yanking him back and causing the boy to stumble.

 

“You dirty cheater!” Louis ran off cackling as Harry shouted from behind.

 

The second Louis had dipped his toe into the waves, Harry’s arms came around his chest, lifting him up and running deeper into the water. Louis was surprised at just how strong Harry had become, far from the cheeky, lanky boy he met only a year before.

 

“Oh fuck me!”

 

Harry’s arms tightened around Louis as he waded through the freezing waves.

 

“Put me down!” Louis screeched, thrashing in Harry’s arms.

 

“If you insist.”

 

Louis didn’t have time to process before Harry’s arms let go of him. The initial shock of the cold water left Louis breathless and he lost his footing when he reached the bottom, slipping and going under the surface. Harry’s arms pulled him back to his feet, and Louis gasped into the air.

 

“You good Lou?”

 

Harry’s teeth were chattering, and his arms held Louis close, trying to keep each other warm.

 

“You utter wanker, it’s fucking freezing!”

 

“Exactly like I said it would be before you started all of this. Can we go yet?”

 

Louis was not letting Harry off that lightly. They were out far enough that they couldn’t hear their friends on the shore, but Louis could see them filming, and he knew exactly how to get his revenge on Harry.

 

“Yeah, come on.”

 

As they turned to start walking back, Harry put his hand on Louis’ lower back. Louis hooked his foot around the back of Harry’s ankle and put all of his body weight against Harry’s front. The pressure forced Harry backwards, over Louis ankle and under the water. When he resurfaces, Harry’s face was a picture. His hair was plastered all over his face, his hand pushing it all back, and instead of shock like Louis’ had been, it was pure betrayal.

 

“I hate you.  You are dead to me.”

 

Louis held out a hand for Harry to stand up, and the two rushed back to the shore. Zoe was waiting with towels for them, and the two huddled up before running towards the warmth of the fire. The boys followed them, laughing and replaying the videos as Harry and Louis dried off the best they could before chucking their clothes on.

 

“You two are insane, man!” Jack was still watching the videos, joining the seven other huddling around Louis and Harry to raise their temperature.

 

Watching Harry’s pained smile as whole body shivered continuously, knowing his own was doing the same, Louis was thinking maybe he’d pushed it too far this time. But then Harry knocked into Louis side and lifted his arm for Louis to cuddle into underneath, and he knew he wasn’t in trouble with the boy. As Louis leant in, he pretended not to notice Zoe watching the pair, leaning into Harry’s other side.

 

“What do you expect? These two are a nightmare together.” Zayn’s comment instigated a communal laugh.

 

The whole group descended into a comfortable conversation, squeezed together in front of the roaring fire – props to Liam for remembering the lighter fluid – and they all watched in awe as the village’s Bonfire Night fireworks display started in the distant sky. Yeah, Louis was happy.

 

 

…………………………………………………………………………………………

 

 

 **L:** _if you’re not here in 5 mins, you’re buying my coffee._

Tuesdays were the only day of the week that Harry and Louis finished lectures at the same time. It was agreed that at 1pm, Harry would cross campus, collecting Louis from his lecture hall on the way, and by 1:10pm, the two would be in line at the quaintest convivial café in town. Usually it was just a quick coffee pick up before heading to either of the boy’s houses, but occasionally, especially if their student loans had just dropped, the two would stop for some lunch too.

 

This particular Tuesday, it was already 1:15pm and Louis was still waiting outside his lecture hall. He had exhausted his Snapchat and Instagram updates and was bored of waiting.

 

 **L:** _and if you’re not here in ten, I’m leaving without and you owe me dinner for an entire week._

It was unlike Harry to be late without letting Louis know. As it got closer to 1:25pm, Louis was starting to push himself off from the wall he was leaning against when he saw Harry jogging towards him.

 

“What time do you call this?”

 

Louis started walking in the direction of town, leaving Harry to run behind. He wasn’t really mad, but it was too good of an opportunity to tease Harry. The boy caught up with him, bringing his hair up off his neck with a bobble as he walked.

 

“I’m so sorry, Lou. I needed to ask Martin something after his lecture and he caught me out with his rambling and I couldn’t exactly whip my phone out in the middle of talking to him.”

 

Louis looked over at Harry, who face was the embodiment of focus as he struggled to push a few strangling strands into the hair tie, and couldn’t help but smile. He was so fond of this boy, and his unnecessary worry only increased that fact.

 

“Who’s rambling now, huh?”

 

Harry grinned at Louis and slung his arm around his shoulder as they walked.

 

Being a little later than usual, the two had missed their perfect slot that beat the office lunch rush and had to join the queue that almost reached the door of the café. There was no way they would be able to find a table to have lunch with it being this busy. As they waited, they amicably chatted about their days; Louis was more than happy to listen to Harry rant about nothing in particular.

 

Suddenly, Harry froze mid-word. His entire body was stiff, his panicked gaze fixed on something over Louis’ shoulder.

 

“H, you good?”

 

Louis looked around in an attempt to find what had attracted Harry’s attention. There was nothing unusual going on, just regular students and office workers out for lunch. Harry’s only response was to grab hold of Louis’ hand and twist their fingers together.

 

“Just go with it,” Harry whispered.

 

See, it wasn’t unusual for Louis and Harry to hold hands. They would do it on nights out, guiding each other through clubs or keeping track of each other walking home. They would even clasp hands watching movies as a comforting gesture. But Harry’s odd behaviour made the situation very weird.

 

Harry squeezed Louis’ hand tighter at the exact moment a short, brunette student walked over to them.

 

“Harry! How are you? It’s like you’ve been avoiding me since…” The girl trailed off when she noticed Louis and Harry’s joined hands. Her face screwed up in confusion.

 

“Hey, um, Eloise. This is Louis; Louis, Eloise.”

 

Louis gave an awkward wave with his free hand; Harry’s grip was still vice-like on the other. Eloise smiled back politely, and her eyes went straight back to Harry, flitting between his face and their hands in bewilderment.

 

“Um, I didn’t realise-” she started, words disjointed like she couldn’t quite get out what she wanted to say, “The other week, you never said.”

 

The sentence lifted at the end like a question.

 

Harry’s response was just as awkward.

 

“Yeah, um, I don’t remember much.”

 

 Louis winced at the girl’s reaction. He felt as though he was piecing together what was happening, and if he was right, Harry was making it so much worse.

Eloise, cheeks red with embarrassment, pushed her hair out from behind her ear and readjusted her bag on her shoulder.

 

“I’m gonna go, nice to see you,” she mumbled before walking away at a quick pace.

 

It took a second for Harry to drop Louis’ hand. Louis stared at the boy, completely baffled at the whole exchange, whilst Harry turned back to face the front of the queue like nothing had happened.

 

“Dude, what was that all about?”

 

Harry ignored Louis in favour of placing their usual order, and then used the condiment station filled with milk and spices and stirrers as a tool to avoid Louis’ gaze. He still hadn’t spoken when their names were called, and Harry rushed to pick it up from the counter, leaving Louis to trail behind him out of the door.

 

Louis reached sip number four before he couldn’t take the silence anymore.

 

“I’m gonna say it again, what happened back there? Because I won’t lie to you Harry, you were kinda rude to her.”

 

Harry was habitually picking at the plastic lid to his coffee. This behaviour was so unlike Harry. Louis’ naturally happy-go-lucky best friend was being rude to him, which he could handle every now and then, but only minutes after being rude to a girl neither of them knew that well, which he couldn’t. Something must be heavily weighing down on his mind.

 

“Look,” Harry started, keeping himself busy and away from Louis’ eyes by focusing on his cup still, “I met her when I went out with the accounting boys the other week.”

 

“The night you were so drunk that you called me to argue why _Anastasia_ is the better than all Disney princess films.”

 

Harry glared at Louis from the side of his eyes. The cup picking stopped. Louis had successfully lightened the mood a little.

 

“Yeah exactly, I was really drunk. And I ended up sleeping with her and panicked in the morning and disappeared before she woke up and have been avoiding her since, okay.”

 

Harry spilled the words out in a single breath, like he was hoping Louis might not hear him if he spoke quick enough. Louis looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

 

Harry didn’t really boast about his sexual encounters. From what Louis knew, they didn’t happen too often, and the only reaction to them by the boys was a taunting cheer when Harry made the walk of shame the next morning. Harry would just display a smirking grin and head into the shower, and that was that.

 

But Harry wasn’t one to panic about sleeping with someone, never mind leaving them without a word.

 

“Well, that’s unlike you,” Louis didn’t really know what to say to Harry’s admission, “what was with the whole hand thing?”

 

This time, Harry did look at Louis, cheeks so red they could stop traffic. This time, Harry downed the rest of his coffee as a delay technique.

 

“I, um, hoped she might think I was with you. Like, _with_ with you.”

 

Louis was stunned. Standing as the third wheel between Harry and Eloise’s awkward encounter, Louis could guess the basis of what had happened between them, but he did not expect Harry to use the gay card to get out of it.

 

“I know, it was stupid,” Harry continued, “but I panicked again. It was the first thing I thought to do when I saw her.”

 

They had left town by now and were approaching the edge of their estate. Louis threw his empty cup in the bin and shoved his hands in his pockets to give them something to do in the cup’s absence. He felt a little uncomfortable but couldn’t pinpoint why.

 

“Well, that doesn’t give you a reason to be rude to her.”

 

“Jheez Louis I wasn’t being rude. I was drunk when I accidentally slept with her and it was awkward enough, I wasn’t going to make it even more awkward by telling her why I bailed.”

 

Harry’s tone was harsh, and it made Louis somewhat shrink inside his jacket.

 

“At least I’m fucking getting some.” Harry mumbled under his breath.

 

What had got into him today, Louis thought. How dare he speak to him like that.

 

“Wow. And this is where I leave you, mate,” They had reach the point where Louis could divert from their walk to get to his own flat. “I was only being a friend to you, and you don’t get to speak to me like that.”

 

Louis turned and walked away without waiting for Harry’s response. He was not putting up with Harry being an arsehole to him for no legitimate reason.

 

He reached the end of the street before Harry caught back up with him.

 

“Lou...”

 

“I just want you to know,” Louis started, annoyed and ready to rant, “I haven’t slept with anyone in a while because I don’t want to. That’s my choice. I’m not in the mood for random hook-ups right now and I’m not ready for a new relationship either. Just because you have had sex more recently than me does _not_ make you better than me.”

 

Without glancing at Harry, Louis continued down his street. He was starting to think that he didn’t want Harry coming inside his flat with him.

 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been rude to you, or to Eloise.”

 

As they reached the flat door, Harry took Louis by the arm and turned him so they faced each other.

 

“Lou, I’m sorry. Look, sleeping with her has made me think about some things, and I’ve been stressing out about it. I don’t feel like random hook ups anymore either, and I had no right to be arsey with you. I didn’t mean it.”

 

Louis entered the flat without replying, knowing Harry would follow.

 

“We’re best friends, H. You can talk to me about stuff if it’s stressing you out.”

 

Harry spun Louis around in the hallway and brought him into a full body hug. When Harry planted a big, wet kiss on his forehead, Louis scoffed and tried to squirm his way out of Harry’s arms.

 

“I love you, Lou. I gotta figure stuff out for myself sometimes, though. Sorry again.”

 

There was something heavy in Louis’ chest in hearing that Harry didn’t want to share with him, especially when it was something he was worried about.

 

“Get off me. I still haven’t forgiven you, but making me your spicy fajitas later might help.”

 

Louis wriggled out of Harry’s arms and collapsed onto the sofa.

 

“Text Eloise and apologise too.”

 

 

…………………………………………………………………………………………

 

 

Monday mornings were easy for Louis, and this one was particularly pleasant. He had woken up alone in Harry’s bed just after 11am. Where Louis had no lectures on Mondays, Harry had two gruelling two-hours, back to back until 2pm. With Louis sleeping at Harry’s more often than not– _I don’t care that I live two streets away, I can be in bed ten minutes sooner if I just crash_ here – the pair had mastered the routine of Louis’ sleeping in and Harry getting ready quietly around him.

 

Louis rolled from the centre to his edge of the bed. No matter how much Harry argues that Louis does _not_ have his own side of the bed, when he cleared out the bedside table that he didn’t use for Louis to keep some things in, which just happened to be on the side Louis slept on, he confirmed it. Louis teased him offering the drawer space, claiming he could be completely moved in within a week, but when Harry got all pouty and threatened to take it back, Louis took him to the pub, rambling about how thoughtful it was.

 

Louis pulled his glasses out from the drawer, picking his phone and laptop up from the floor.

 

 **H:** _leftover porridge in the microwave, shove it in the fridge if you don’t want it pls_

Louis blushed slightly at how well Harry looked after him. He couldn’t have asked for a better, more caring best friend if he tried. He pressed play on his latest new obsession on Harry’s Netflix account, _The Staircase_ , and set about writing some more of his dissertation as he waited for Harry to come home.

 

~~~

 

Harry was exhausted after his lectures finished. Louis was still in bed with his laptop open; he had done _some_ work, but _The Staircase_ was getting really good and demanded his full attention. Harry dragged himself into the bedroom, face planted the bed over Louis legs, and let out a relieved groan as he toed his shoes off.

 

“Be lazy with me this afternoon please. No more work,” he mumbled with his face squished into the duvet.

 

And that’s how Louis ended up on Harry’s sofa half an hour later with the beginnings of _Lady Bird_ (Harry had been begging him to watch it for weeks) on the TV. He’d wasted too much of the morning watching Netflix, so had his laptop resting on the arm of the sofa under the pretence of doing some work whilst the film was on. Harry stretched himself out along the full length of the sofa, digging his toes into Louis thigh as he got himself comfortable.

 

Fifteen minutes into the film, Harry flipped his body around, bringing his head to Louis’ end of the sofa.

 

“Let me in please,” he asked, nudging his head against Louis’ arm.

 

Louis let out a soft, affectionate laugh, lifting his arm up so Harry could get underneath it. The boy laid his head in Louis’ lap and tucked his feet up as close as they could go. Louis put his hand in Harry’s hair, scratching at his scalp lightly, but Harry quickly pulled Louis’ arm around him and cuddled it into his neck like a blanket, letting out a content sigh.

 

“Don’t go falling asleep on me now, you’ve begged me to watch this with you for ages!”

 

Harry whispered a small “won’t” in response.

 

“Why are you this tired anyway, huh?”

 

“Dunno, just am.”

 

Ten minutes later, Harry was asleep. Louis quite enjoyed the film, which was lucky as he knew Harry would make him watch it again.

 

 

~~~

 

Niall and Callum, one of their housemates, came home a while later, took one look at Louis and Harry on the sofa, and burst out laughing. Harry hadn’t moved an inch, dead to the world, and Louis was using his free hand to do some work. He wouldn’t tell anyone that he was only working because the TV remote was just too far from his reach and he didn’t want to disturb Harry to get it.

 

“Mate, if anyone saw the pair of you right now, they’d think you’re an old married couple.”

 

Niall threw himself onto the single armchair and grabbed the remote to put something on the TV. He took his phone out, snapping a picture of the pair. Louis stuck his middle finger up in protest.

 

A second later, Louis phone lit up with a notification from the five boys’ group chat.

 

 **N:** _Bertie and Ethel are being all domestic again [1 picture]_

“Ha ha, so original. Dying with laughter,” Louis replied monotonously.

 

He didn’t mention that he saved the picture to his camera roll.

 

All of the new voices and Callum’s heavy feet in the kitchen had woken Harry up. He sat up, bleary eyed and hair mussed.

 

“Hi Ni,” he murmured, resting his head on Louis’ shoulder.

 

“Oh God! It gets worse!”

 

Louis’ phone lit up again with another picture from Niall.

 

“He’s poking fun again H,” Louis lowered his shoulder so Harry would be more comfortable.

 

“Too right I am, you haven’t been to your own home in like two weeks, Lou. Surprised Zayn hasn’t started a search party.”

 

Harry breathed a small “leave him alone Ni,” into Louis’ shoulder as he bit back at Niall.

 

“M’sure he’s doing just fine with Liam’s company in place of mine. You’re just jealous Harry loves me more anyway.”

 

Louis and Niall rallied petty insults to each other whilst Harry struggled to keep his eyes open. Callum came into the living room with a plate of food and looked at the sofa in despair. For a six-bedroom house, you would think the landlord would provide more than a single sofa and armchair.

 

Louis nudged Harry to sit up.

 

“Go to bed, H. Let Cal eat his dinner.”

 

“No, ‘m comfy.”

 

Harry sleepily pushed his head into Louis’ chest, silently demanding another cuddle. Louis complied but looked at Callum in despair.

 

“Well one of you is moving. I’m not eating on the floor.”

 

Louis stood up and put his laptop on the table, much to Harry’s dismay.

 

“Why?!” He groaned, drawing out the sound.

 

“Shut up and move over.”

 

Niall only laughed as Harry threw himself to the edge of the sofa, like a toddler having a tantrum. Callum, on the other hand, couldn’t care less about the situation, and stole the remote from Niall before sitting where Harry had just been, plate on his lap. The two were too used to Harry’s antics.

 

Louis moved to sit on the floor between Harry’s legs. In theory, this position was perfect; the coffee table was perfect height for Louis to drag closer and do some work on top. But Harry wasn’t having any of it. He let out a small “nope”, put a hand under Louis’ armpit and dragged him back onto the sofa. Or, more specifically, onto Harry’s lap.

 

Louis flailed his limbs in surprise.

 

“Oi!” Callum shouted with his mouth full, “watch the food!”

 

“What on earth are you doing, boy?”

 

Harry moved Louis around on his lap like a rag doll, and Louis didn’t know what else to do but go with it.

 

“I want a cuddle, these two are ruining it.”

 

Louis was too weak to argue with Harry’s pout.

 

The way Harry had arranged him was awkward, to say the least. His bum was in the gap between Harry’s thigh and the arm of the sofa, legs draped across Harry’s lap. The deep-set sofa meant that he sunk too far back, and it felt like his knees were at his chin. Harry had already cuddled himself under Louis’ arm, perfectly content.

 

Louis couldn’t take the uncomfortableness any longer. Using his free hand, he pushed his body up on the arm of the sofa, ignoring Harry’s whining. Louis was always one to indulge Harry, but sometimes he got a bit too spoilt and annoying. This was close to being one of those times.

 

“If you want a cuddle that bad, shut up and move closer a bit. Otherwise go to bed.”

 

That shut Harry up. The boy was still sleepy, so his movements were slow, but he did as he was told. Louis swung his legs down onto the floor, fully planting himself into Harry’s lap in an attempt to rearrange himself. Harry’s hands went to Louis’ hips in a guiding manner.

 

Louis’ plan was to sit high on Harry’s thigh, so the boy could snuggle into him, but so he wouldn’t be in Callum’s way. But as he pushed himself back, Harry’s hands kept him grounded.

 

“Don’t move,” Harry whispered.

 

Louis looked over his shoulder at the boy, nonplussed. Harry eyes had lost all ounce of sleepiness and were now wide open, like he was shocked or scared.

 

“You good?”

 

Harry shook his head in reply, avoiding Louis’ gaze.

 

And then Louis felt it; Harry was hard. His natural instinct was to bear down into Harry’s lap, but Harry’s grip tightened, and he let out a subtle whimper.

 

Louis wasn’t sure what to do. He and Harry had been in significantly more intimate positions than this. Hell, Louis had woken up in the same bed as Harry plenty of times where they both had morning wood. But that was easily laughed off, just an act of nature. Never had they been hard from direct contact.

 

“Off, please,” Harry muttered.

 

As soon as Louis’ weight was off of Harry, he was up instantly. His joggers were doing nothing to hide his erection, and because Louis knew it was there, he couldn’t look away. With cheeks red in embarrassment, Harry left the room with a hand strategically positioned in front of his crotch.

 

Callum and Niall seemed none the wiser about Harry’s predicament.

 

After about ten minutes, an acceptable amount, he thought, Louis followed Harry to his bedroom. He paused outside of the door, and knocked before entering, something he had never done before but didn’t know if Harry was taking care of himself on the other side. Now that was a thought.

 

Harry was face down on the bed. Louis wasn’t sure if he was asleep.

 

“H?”

 

Harry’s head whipped around to face Louis.

 

“I’m sorry! It was an accident-”

 

“Don’t worry, it’s natural.”

 

“-exactly and it’s just been a while and I’m sorry.”

 

Harry turned his head back into the pillow whilst Louis loitered at the door.

 

“Can you just go for a bit?” Harry murmured against the sheets.

 

Louis replied with a quick yeah, and shut the door quietly behind him, unsure what to think about the situation. It was natural after all, right?

 

 

…………………………………………………………………………………………

 

 

The thumping bass of the club music bounced around Louis’ head. His ears were ringing, and his eyes were misty from the smoke machine and he couldn’t have been happier.

 

Harry had insisted on a big group night out to celebrate Louis handing in his final dissertation draft. It still needed some extra work put into it, but all Louis could do was wait for his supervisor’s comments before he could work on it any more. Louis was revelling in the fact that he was so close to completing his degree.  Only one exam and two thousand words stood in his way.

 

On top of that, it was the last night that the five of them would be together before the holidays; Liam and Zayn were leaving on Sunday to go home for Easter, the other three hanging at the house for a little longer. Louis could afford to get blackout drunk tonight, so it was truly a night to party.

 

It seemed like most students had the same plans. The club was a lot busier than usual, sweaty bodies increasing the temperature above comfortable, and Louis had lost the boys in favour of a group of his course mates more than an hour ago.

 

The heavily tattooed man that had been eyeing Louis up for longer than Louis could remember had not gone unnoticed. Not by his friends either, who were strategically dancing across the room to try and get Louis and this man together.

 

“I swear to God Lou, I’m gonna march you over there by the arm if you don’t at least indulge the man.”

 

Louis flipped Rowan off at his remark, bringing the boy in by the neck to rub his knuckles against his hair. He couldn’t stop laughing at Sam and Rowan’s poor attempt at being wingmen, ignoring them to dance with the girls. He could always count on Lucy and Scarlett’s inevitable state of drunkenness to accept him into their circle and distract him from the boys’ taunting.

 

That didn’t stop him from looking though.

 

Tattoo Man was fairly nice looking and was obviously interested. A hook up could end Louis’ celebratory night nicely, he thought. Louis toyed with him a little, sneaking glances that were long enough to be noticed but short enough to be alluring.  Tattoo Man smirked like he knew Louis’ game.

 

Before Louis could register, a body was pressing against him from behind; it was his turn to smirk. He turned to face Tattoo Man, leaning in slightly before throwing his head back and circling his hips. The tighter grip Tattoo Man had on Louis’ hips told Louis his teasing was a good strategy. Haphazardly throwing a middle finger over his shoulder at the taunting chants from his friends, he connected his hands around Tattoo Man’s neck and increased the pressure of his grinding hips.

 

“Hi.”

 

The music’s beat was fast and heavy, and bodies pushed against each other on the crowded dancefloor. Louis dick twitched slightly at Tattoo Man’s guttural voice and he offered up his neck in response. Tattoo Man took the hint, hands coming around to Louis’ ass as he kissed a line from Louis jaw to his throat. Teeth lightly scraped against Louis’ jugular, and large hands squeezed Louis’ ass cheeks, and that was it. Louis was gone for.

 

He could feel Tattoo Man’s dick tightly pressed to the inside of his jeans, digging into his hip, and his own was no different. Nodding his head forward, Louis caught the man’s lips with his own. There was no politeness or finesse to it, just dirty, spit-filled snogging. Tattoo Man’s hand came up to Louis neck, and gentle yet dominant pressure that drove Louis wild. His own fingers slide up the man’s neck, tugging at the short base strands of his hair.

 

“Fuck, you’re hot.” The man groaned into Louis’ mouth.

 

His hand slipped down Louis chest, low enough for knuckles to brush against Louis’ solid cock. It was Louis turn to moan.

 

All inhibitions had evaded Louis. In his head, he was planning how to provocatively invite Tattoo Man back to his place; he was in too deep to not let this encounter end on a bigger high. Another squeeze to Louis ass, tongues invading each other’s mouths. Louis head was solely focused on the feel of this man against him.

 

That was the case, however, until Louis felt a pair of lips against the back of his neck. Tattoo Man was still in front of him, hands on neck and lips on mouth, so Louis was more than surprised when another body took hold of his hips, pelvis nestled against his ass. Slightly worried at the intrusion, Louis swiftly spun to face the new stranger, whose kisses moved with the motion and went up to Louis’ cheeks.

 

“Lou!” Harry drawled, taking hold of Louis’ hands and swaying in time with the music. He was tremendously drunk. His hair was unruly, and pupils were blown. “I lost you, I missed you, and now I found you.”

 

A bump from a clubgoer had Harry falling into Louis’ chest. Louis steadied the giggling boy with a hand around his waist. He turned to face Tattoo Man, who looked a mixture of confused and pissed off. A quick glance to Harry proved to Louis that his night was not going to end the way he had been planning only two minutes before.

 

“Sorry, he’s my best mate,” Tattoo Man didn’t look any more understanding from Louis’ revelation, “I’ve got to sort him out.”

 

Louis spotted Niall by the bar and had an idea.

 

“Look, stay right here. I’ll be back in a minute.”

 

Louis didn’t stay to see Tattoo Man’s annoyed response, or to see him disappear in pursuit of someone else. Instead, he hauled Harry off in Niall’s direction, forcing the boy’s hands down against his shoulders so he didn’t lose him. Ignoring Harry’s giggles of “ _choo choo choo, c’mon and do the conga_ ”, Louis propped the boy against an empty space at the bar, keeping an arm around his waist.

 

“You’re insufferable, Styles. I hope you know that.”

 

Harry absorbed the attention, pushing his face down into Louis’ neck.

 

“Lou lou lou, c’mon and do the conga!”

 

Louis couldn’t help but laugh and attempted to call out to Niall over the music. When he finally got his attention, he just pointed at Harry draped over his side and shrugged his arms, hoping for a bit of assistance.

 

“He needs to go home!” Niall shouted over the music in Louis’ direction, quickly distracted again by the girl hanging off his neck.

 

In the split second that he had been talking to Niall, Harry had managed to switch his attention from Louis to the bartender, who was definitely not listening to anything Harry was rambling about. Louis spun Harry’s body back towards his own, and Harry’s attention immediately switched back. With his mouth pushed into Louis’ neck, Harry was chatting away again. Slurs that resembled something along the lines of “so proud”, “my boy” and “so smart” was all that Louis could render intelligible.

 

With a hand on the back of Harry’s neck, Louis looked around the club. Zayn and Liam had disappeared, as usual. Sam and Rowan had abandoned him for a larger group of History students over by the bar. Louis looked over wistfully; he hadn’t been out with his course-mates for a while and all of his friends were there. Tonight was supposed to be about him. But then Harry was giggling into Louis’ neck again, fiddling with the collar of his shirt, and the feeling quickly disappeared. It was getting late enough anyway.

 

“Come on, big boy,” Louis took Harry by the hands and led him towards the club entrance, “let’s get you home. Might treat you to some chips if you behave.”

 

Harry looked at him like Louis had just offered the world.

 

~~~

 

Harry was like a child who had just been given a bag of sweets with his garlic mayonnaise and gravy covered chips in the back of the taxi. His head rested against Louis’ shoulder as he ate, his drunk high having evolved to tiredness by now, and Louis couldn’t be mad at the drops of the gravy that were on his jeans. As long as Harry stayed quiet and didn’t make a mess in the taxi, meaning Louis had to pay the cleaning fine, Harry could dirty Louis’ jeans as much as he wanted.

 

As the taxi pulled over outside Louis’ building, he paid the fare and pushed Harry out of the door and into the flat. Harry was more than happy finishing off his food propped against the wall as Louis fought with getting the key into the lock, stealing a few greasy chips as he opened the door.

 

“Rude.” Harry looked affronted, but went on to say, “Thank you for my food Lou,” with a placid smile on his face.

 

“Come on you.”

 

Harry fingers looped Louis’ as he followed the boy inside. Louis paused outside the bathroom.

 

“Need to pee?”

 

“Nope!” Harry replied, popping the ‘p’.

 

Where Louis was a messy drunk, often wandering off and vomiting in inappropriate places, Harry was docile. Once the initial alcohol buzz had worn off, Harry becomes pretty pliant, needy for touch and affection and all-round loving.

 

“Don’t piss in my bed, Styles.”

 

Harry twisted his fingers with Louis’, swaying their hands in time to whatever song playing in his head.

 

“I would never, Tommo-linson,”

 

Louis fondly shook his head, dragging Harry into his room and sitting him on the edge of the bed. Harry stood back up immediately, hands grasping Louis’ shoulders and looking him dead in the eye.

 

“I don’t want you to not be here next year, Lou. I don’t know what I’m going do without you with me.”

 

Harry’s eyebrows were creased like he was truly worried about the thought, but tonight wasn’t the time for emotional talks like that. Because Louis knew he was thinking the same, that he was going to struggle without his best friend living a few streets away.

 

“You’ve still got Li and Niall, you’ll be fine Haz. Now get your clothes off unless you wanna sleep in your jeans.”

 

“Yes, sir!”

 

Harry laughed, like he’d already forgotten what he was thinking about, and made no attempt to undress. The song was obviously back in his head, as Harry swung his arms around above his head. The image reminded Louis of Baby Groot in _Guardians of the Galaxy_ , and he chuckled to himself at the thought _._

 

With Harry refusing to sit on the bed, Louis was on his knees in front of him. If Louis was with any other man, he would have made more than one suggestive comment about the position they were in. Instead, he was getting more and more frustrated with Harry’s unhelpfulness as he attempted to unzip the boy’s boots.

 

“H, I swear to God if you don’t sit the fuck down then I will leave you as you are.” Louis looks up at Harry, whose head was tipped back, grin wide on his face.

 

“No, you won’t, Mr Bigshot. I’m your best friend and you always make sure I’m okay even if I’m annoying or puking or….” Harry sways on his feet, and Louis can tell by the look in his eyes that his head is spinning. Bringing up puke probably wasn’t the best idea for Harry at the time.

 

“How are you more drunk than I am when tonight was supposed to be all about me?”

 

Louis stands to full height, abandoning the boots, and Harry’s hands go straight to his shoulders to steady himself.

 

Harry leans in and touches his forehead to Louis’. His eyes were closed, and whilst Harry and Louis weren’t afraid of touching each other and being close, something about this moment felt too intimate than what Louis was used to.

 

“You’ve always been so good to me Lou. I’m so glad I met you.”

 

Louis hasn’t thought about kissing Harry since the night they met. But now, he was thinking about it. As Harry slid a hand up to caress Louis’ neck, Louis was _really_ thinking about it.

 

“Harry what-”

 

Harry was kissing Louis. Louis was shocked, eyes wide open and body frozen. And then Louis was kissing Harry. They were stood at the foot of Louis’ bed, and they were kissing. And it was good. Better than Louis could have thought. He wasn’t sure whether this was supposed to be happening. Despite his flamboyant personality and androgynous style, Harry had not shown interest in men since they had met, to Louis’ knowledge anyway. He should stop this before it gets out of hand, he thought, yet Louis didn’t want to ruin the moment, so let Harry set the pace.

 

Hands gripped hair. Hips pushed against each other. Teeth clashed. Harry was the first to put his tongue into the situation, nudging between Louis lips into his mouth. Louis moved his tongue alongside Harry’s and couldn’t suppress the quiet moan that he made.

 

And it was gone.

 

Harry’s hands were instantly at Louis’ shoulders, forcefully pushing him away from him and to the wall.

 

“Why the fuck did you do that?!” shouted Harry. He didn’t look quite so drunk anymore. Louis was too confused and in shock to reply.  “What on earth… you fucking kissed me?! Why?! Me being drunk isn’t the only reason why that wasn’t okay Louis!”

 

The look of pure disgust on Harry’s face was the reason behind the tear falling onto Louis’ cheek. “You kissed me?” Louis whispered, sounding more like a question than the statement Louis intended it to be.

 

“No, I- why would I have done that? I-” Harry’s eyes were wide as he stared Louis down. “I’m not fucking gay, Louis.”

 

“Harry,”

 

“Don’t.” Louis couldn’t move as Harry walked past him. He couldn’t comprehend any part of what had happened in the last five minutes. No sound in Louis’ entire memory was as loud as the slam of the front door as Harry left.

 

~~~

 

Louis’ mind was running overtime. Too many thoughts were passing through that he couldn’t process them all. He was too shocked to cry, but his internal self was sobbing.

In all the time Louis had known Harry, all of the times he had been angry, Louis had never seen him react in such an irate way, towards anyone.

 

He couldn’t tell how much time had passed since Harry left; his body was still frozen in place against the wall. Breaking through the silence was a quiet knock at the main door, so quiet that if Louis had been moving, he wouldn’t have heard it. The noise knocked him out of his trance ever so slightly, just enough that he made the instinctive movement to answer the door.

 

Louis couldn’t work out if he was shocked or not that the person on the other side was Harry.

 

Louis noticed Harry’s eyes were puffy, like he had been crying, but he wasn’t anymore. Harry didn’t look up from the floor.

 

“I can’t find my key and my phone’s died.” Louis was focused on Harry’s face, but still noticed Harry’s nervous tick of moving his rings from finger to finger. “Can I stay?”

 

“You know you don’t have to ask, you have never-”

 

“I do.”

 

Harry’s reply was short and sharp, in a tone that he never uses with Louis. They were both tired, dehydrated from their night out, and upset. Louis didn’t want to fight, especially when he was still so unsure with what had happened, so he just opened the door wider and stepped aside to let Harry in.

 

Harry shuffles past, feet dragging along the floor and mumbling a small ‘thanks’ as he passes. Louis stops him before he can get to the living room.

 

“Take my bed, H. Don’t be stupid.”

 

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” Harry’s head whipped round to stare Louis down. His eyes were redder than they had been only seconds ago. “I don’t want to even be here right now. I can’t even look at you without-… I’m only here because I can’t get home. And you want to share a bed?”

 

Louis’ chest ached. He and Harry had fought before – despite being best friends, they were very different people – but Harry had _never_ spoken to him with such resentment as he had tonight. Inside, he was still sobbing. He didn’t have the energy nor a reason to shout back.

 

“I’ll be in Zayn’s bed. You know where everything is.”

 

Louis determinedly didn’t look back at Harry as he walked down the hall. His head hurt; he needed to sleep. This could all be thought about in the morning.

 

~~~

 

Louis didn’t sleep well.

 

Thoughts were still going through his mind too fast to process. Part of him hoped that Harry would wake up feeling like death with a hangover from hell, pouting his way into getting Louis to walk to McDonalds to get him a greasy breakfast. Just like normal. Like last night hadn’t happened. But on the other hand, Louis somehow wanted last night to have happened, minus the fighting. He couldn’t lie and say he hadn’t thought of Harry as more than a friend since the night they met. Jesus, any straight man could look at Harry and find him attractive, except Harry had become his best friend too quickly, and had shown no interest in being attracted to Louis, so subconsciously suppressed those thoughts. And now Harry had. Harry had looked at Louis and wanted to kiss him. Louis would deal with all kinds of awkwardness to know that Harry might actually like him back.

 

He had spent so long staring into the darkness of Zayn’s room that it felt like his eyes had dried up. He had slept though. One moment it was 6am and he was counting imaginary sheep like an idiot in an attempt to force his brain to shut down; the next, Zayn was jumping onto the bed beside him and it was light outside. Squinting to allow his eyes to adjust, Louis peered back at Zayn’s questioning look.

 

“You have your own bed in this house, you know. You don’t have to use mine.”

 

Louis rolled over, his back facing Zayn, and ignored the question. If he went back to sleep, maybe Zayn would leave him alone.

 

His eyes were just drifting shut when Zayn flung his arm out to hit his back.

 

“Don’t ignore me asshole.”

 

Louis overexaggerated a sigh and brought his own arms above his head.

 

“Harry’s in mine. Go away”

 

“No, he’s not,” That got Louis to turn back over, curiosity getting the best of him, “and since when did Harry staying mean you didn’t stay in your own room with him?”

 

“Harry’s not here?”

 

A hundred different possibilities of what could have happened to him ran through Louis’ head. When he was moping during the night, he didn’t even consider Harry not staying until the morning.

 

“Nope, went to find you when I got home from Li’s and your bed’s empty, so I grabbed a drink from the kitchen and now I’m in here.”

 

Louis shot up right in bed, only to increase Zayn’s confusion.

 

“Lou, what happened?”

 

“I need to find Harry.”

 

Louis hastily pulled on some joggers and a hoodie from Zayn’s floor and patted the bed for his phone.

 

“Can you call Niall for me?” he asked when he couldn’t find it, “I need to see if-”

 

Louis was panicking, his hands dragging through his hair and pulling at his roots. Harry was drunk and upset when Louis left him last night. Although he didn’t hear the front door close, Harry might not have even stayed the night for all he knew. Who knows what could have happened to him. He needed to find his phone and he needed to see if Harry was okay.

 

“Lou, what’s wrong? Niall was still asleep when I left, I can call Liam instead?” Zayn was stood in front of Louis, arms tentative to reach out and comfort. Louis was certain that he must think he was insane, with the way he was looking at him. “I can’t help if you don’t tell me what happened, Louis.”

 

Louis stared at Zayn, eyes wide. He could feel anxiety building up inside him and it worried him even further.

 

The thing was, he liked that Harry had kissed him. Louis realised that he wanted it, and he wanted more. All of their mutual friends had made comments about how domestic the two were, how people who didn’t know them would think they were in a relationship. They couldn’t all be wrong in thinking that, could they? If Louis was honest with himself, he only difference between his and Harry’s friendship and a relationship is the sexual part. And that had just sort of happened. And it was good, for him at least.

 

If Harry had instigated it, drunk or not, maybe he wanted to bridge that gap towards more than a friendship.

 

“We had a fight,” Louis sighed, feeling defeated. He didn’t know how he was supposed to deal with everything. “Um, something happened and we fought really bad, worse than we ever have. We were both drunk and upset and now he’s not here and I need to find him to make sure he’s okay.”

 

Louis wasn’t sure what he looked like at that moment but judging by Zayn’s reaction, it wasn’t good.

 

“Alright, Louis,” His eyes were soft, sympathetic even. He didn’t ask anything else, silently thinking as he inspected Louis’ frantic expression. “He’ll be fine. Come on.”

 

Running a hand through his hair, Zayn grabbed his jacket at guided Louis out of the front door with a hand on his shoulder.

 

~~~

 

 

When Zayn and Louis arrived at the other boys’ house, Niall walked straight out of the living room and into his bedroom. The look he gave Louis could have turned objects into stone.

 

“He’s not here,” started Liam.

 

Where else could he be, Louis thought. The uncertainty was putting even more stress on Louis. He hated thinking of Harry being alone and upset and it was causing his chest to tighten. Zayn’s hand between his shoulder blades was a comforting presence, but it didn’t help as much as Louis would’ve liked.

 

Before Louis could say anything, Liam continued.

 

“Niall called him just after Zayn text me. He’s gone home early for Easter, and he would like it if you didn’t speak to him for a while.”

 

Liam’s attention went back to his phone. Zayn moved to sit next to him on the sofa. Louis, still frozen in the doorway, silently turned around and walked back home.

 

 

…………………………………………………………………………………………

 

 

Day one: seventeen missed calls, forty-two texts, three unopened Snapchats and an ignored Facebook message. Nothing from Harry.

 

Day four: two missed calls, one text – _hey, can we please talk? i miss you._ Nothing from Harry.

 

Day seven: “Hey Anne, it’s Louis. Um, so I guess you know something’s up, but could you just get Harry to call me? Please. Or just let me know how he is if he doesn’t want to speak. Hope you’re doing okay, and that I get to see you soon, bye.” Nothing from Harry.

 

Day eleven: _whatever you want to do H, we can do it. Pretend it never happened, talk about it, whatever it is I’m here for you. I miss you._ Nothing from Harry.

 

Day sixteen: Louis went home for the Easter holidays. Harry was supposed to go down with him, before going to see his own family a few days later. Louis still hadn’t heard from him.

 

Day twenty-two: Louis donated the two Alton towers tickets that he’d gifted Harry as part of his birthday present to his sisters. He didn’t feel like going on his own, or with someone that wasn’t Harry. The radio silence continued.

 

Day twenty-five: Niall posted a snapchat story in which an extremely drunk Harry is in the background. They’re back at university, Louis hasn’t left home yet. It lifted a small weight off of Louis’ shoulders; the boys wouldn’t talk to him about Harry at all, but it was good to know they were there for him.

 

Zayn says that he didn’t know anything, and he had a tendency to stay away from drama, so Louis believed him. He let Louis have a rant and a cry about the situation though, so it made up for it. Niall and Liam, on the other hand, obviously knew more than they were letting on, and it hurt Louis to think that one stupid moment on a drunken night out might lose him his friends. Might lose him Harry.

 

On day thirty-one, after an entire month of no Harry, Louis and Zayn went out. Louis had been back at university for a few days, having tried to stay home as long as possible, and Zayn had dragged him out of the flat to try and put an end to his moping.

 

“I know it’s shit Lou, but you can’t avoid life forever. He just needs time.”

 

Louis didn’t particularly want to go out but didn’t put up much of a fight. The plan was to have a few in the local pub, getting Louis tipsy enough to relax. How the two of them ended up being persuading by a group of random lads to go clubbing was beyond Louis.

 

“Maybe it will be good for you,” Zayn started as the two followed the boys from the pub into the gay bar, “I don’t know what’s going on with you and H but maybe getting with a random lad will take your mind off things.”

 

 Louis huffed out a small “maybe”, slipping slightly on the spilt drinks by the bar. A few shots might get him in the mood.

 

“Lads, lads, lads, who’s up for a jägerbomb?!”

 

A large roar responded, and Louis handed his card over to the bartender. At three for a fiver, who could say no.

 

Ten minutes later, and £40 lighter, the alcohol had fully entered Louis’ bloodstream. His hands were waving aimlessly in the air as he rolled his hips in time with the intense music. After deciding tonight wasn’t the night to pull, he was using Zayn as part-dancing buddy and part-boy diversion, but it didn’t seem like Zayn minded. It had been a while since it had been just the two of them on a night out.

 

Zayn himself was getting plenty of male attention, and it pleased Louis to think that people were jealous of him by being with Zayn.

 

“I love you, man, you know that right?”

 

Zayn scoffed at Louis’ comment, pulling the boy in by his waist to dance closer.

 

“Shut up, you’re drunk. Just keep dancing.”

 

“I mean it Z, I never wanna not be friends with you. Stuck with me forever.”

 

Zayn fondly shook his head at Louis’ drunken love, and Louis went in for some more. He planted a big wet kiss on Zayn’s cheek, wet enough for Zayn to wipe it away with his sleeve, and with a slurred “I fucking love you”, Louis hooked his chin over Zayn’s shoulder for a cuddle on the dancefloor.

 

It was then that Louis saw him.

 

He knew that hair anywhere. That back, those legs, those goddamn boots. It was Harry. In a gay club. With his tongue down another man’s throat.

 

Louis’ body moved on autopilot thanks to Zayn’s movements guiding him, but his eyes were fixated on the boy in across the dancefloor. It was a dirty kiss, the club too dark for Louis to make out features of the other man, but the grinding bodies and gripped hair were giveaways. Louis felt hurt; he didn’t know whether he wanted to cry or vomit and told himself he didn’t know why. He couldn’t take his eyes away.

 

Louis was still staring when Harry opened his eyes, mouth still attached to the other man’s, and looked directly at him. He pulled his mouth away, guiding the man to his neck, and smirked. Louis was disgusted, was Harry taunting him?

 

Zayn’s hands gripped Louis tighter, having realised the boy was no longer dancing. Louis tried to push him off, desperate to talk to the person who had been avoiding him for so long, but Zayn gripped harder. His face was the epitome of perplexed.

 

“Get _off_ me Zayn!”

 

Louis pushed away with such force that Zayn went willingly. He held his hands up in the air in a symbol of innocence, not sure what he had done wrong. Forcing himself through the suddenly swarming dancefloor, Louis could hear Zayn calling out after him, but he didn’t care. He needed to find Harry. But as he reached the spot where Harry was just stood, he found the man whose tongue had been down his throat, but Harry had disappeared.

 

He grabbed the man by the lapel of his leather jacket.

 

“That guy you were just with, where did he go?”

 

“What the fuck, bro?” The man shrugged Louis off of him, pushing him away slightly.

 

“Where did he go?!”

 

“I dunno, man. Told me he wasn’t feeling it anymore, had other places to be.”

 

Louis stormed out of the club, checking the smoking area as he went. No Harry. He called him. No answer.

 

Louis walked home. If Harry was set upon being an asshole, Louis wasn’t going to play his games anymore.

 

~~~

 

A week later, Louis was woken up by his phone vibrating off of the side table. By the time he reached for it, the call had ended. He groaned at the sudden light, squinting to try and read the screen before his eyes had adjusted, and groaned even louder when he saw the time.

 

_03:12. Niall: 7 Missed Calls._

Jesus Christ. Louis just put it down to Niall being drunk and rolled onto his back. His eyes closed of their own accord, phone still in hand, and he drifted back to sleep like he had never woken up.

 

As quickly as he had fell back to sleep, Louis was awake again. His phone, still clutched in his hand, was vibrating with a call from Niall.

 

“‘lo?”

 

His throat was dry and scratchy from not having been used in a while.

 

“Fucking finally! You need to get down to the hospital.”

 

Louis sat bolt upright in bed, any ounce of sleepiness left in him gone. Niall sounded tired and panicked, a lot different from his usual chilled demeanour, and that worried Louis.

 

“What’s happened? Are you okay?”

 

Putting the phone on speaker, he rushed around his room trying to get himself ready. His room was tidy, and all of his things in their place, so it shouldn’t have been hard. But Louis’ head was running in circles and he couldn’t think what he needed to take with him.

 

“It’s not me mate, it’s Harry.”

 

Louis stopped moving. It felt as though his blood had run cold. He didn’t like to admit it, but the thought of Harry being hurt was worse than any of the other boys.

 

“Lou, he’s okay,” Niall continued, “well he’s not, but he’s awake and he’s been asking for you.”

Despite the situation, that gave Louis a sense of relief. After so long of Harry ignoring him, to know he wanted to see Louis is a time of need was extremely comforting.

 

“Okay Niall, I’m on my way.”

 

Louis hung up to ring a taxi, patting his pockets multiple times to check he had his phone, keys and wallet. When the taxi arrived, Louis had to run back into the house; he had forgotten to put his shoes on.

 

~~~

 

Niall met Louis at the Accident and Emergency reception. He filled Louis in on the walk to Harry’s room.

 

“It looks scarier than it is, okay.”

 

That didn’t fill Louis with any confidence at all.

 

“It’s a bit of a mess, really,” Niall continued, “We think he got spiked by some guy at a bar, and as the guy tried to get him home, he passed out and fell down some stairs and broke his arm. The guy called an ambulance for him and bailed.”

 

“Asshole.”

 

“Exactly, if I find out who it was, I’m gonna kill him. Anyway, good job he did come in because he was showing signs of alcohol poisoning, so they’ve had to intubate him and flush his stomach. He’s not allowed to go to sleep though, we’ve got to keep him awake until they say he’s all good.”

 

Louis laughed a little at how medical Niall sounded. It was obvious he was just repeating what he had been told, but Niall’s love for hospital-based television programmes was shining right now. Anything to distract him from the severity of what he was about to walk in to.

 

They stopped outside Harry’s room and Louis was apprehensive to go in.

 

“Look, they called me because I was the last person he messaged. I need to sleep, I’ve got that presentation at 9, but he knows you’re here.”

 

Louis looked at Niall like a deer caught in headlights.

 

“Louis, you’ve got to sort out whatever’s going on between you two, okay. He needs you right now.”

 

Niall pulled Louis in for a hug, telling him he’d come by after lunch if Harry hadn’t been discharged yet and that he’d text Liam to let him know when he woke up. Louis let him go with some thanks and a wish of luck for his exam.

 

It was 4am when Louis gathered up the courage to walk into the room.

 

Louis wanted to cry when he took in the sight before him. Harry was watching him from the bed. He had a tube coming out of his mouth with an oxygen pump attached to it to help him breathe. His broken arm was already in a cast, hanging from a sling suspended from the ceiling. A double canula was sending intravenous medicine into his bloodstream through his free hand. Harry’s eyes were drooped; he seemed drunk still, but he was awake.

 

“You idiot.”

 

Louis whisper brought Harry’s attention to him. His eyes widened, and he held his hand out, reaching for Louis, and Louis went over immediately.

 

“You’re such a mess, you’re so fucking stupid Harry.”

 

When Louis got to Harry and took his hand, he noticed tears were running down the boy’s face. Louis ran his fingers over Harry’s hand to soothe him.

 

“So fucking stupid. This needs to stop, right now.”

 

Louis was crying too now. He was so angry that Harry had got himself into this state, that he had gone too far, and it was partly Louis fault.

 

A noise came from Harry’s mouth, like he was trying to talk, but the tube down his throat prevented it and caused a sequence of heavy, hacking coughs.

 

“Alright, calm down, you gotta breathe.”

 

Even in his inebriated state, Harry made a judging face and pointed to the ventilator that was aiding his breathing, and Louis couldn’t help but laugh. Harry rubbed at his throat.

 

“Don’t make me laugh, boy. I’m still mad at you. Does it hurt?”

 

Harry squeezed Louis’s hand in response. Louis took that as a yes and went to find a nurse to see what they could do. When he returned, Harry’s eyes had closed. Louis shook his shoulder gently.

 

“Harry, you can’t sleep yet,” Harry’s eyes blinked open, hand searching for Louis again, “someone’s gonna come in soon to see if they can get you off the ventilator yet and check your medication levels.”

 

Louis wiped away stray tears from Harry’s cheeks, and busied himself by graffitiing on Harry’s fresh cast. It was strange talking to himself, but he didn’t like the silence. Louis wanted to scream and swear at Harry, tell him how scared he was and how hurt he was that Harry had avoided him for so long, wouldn’t go to his _best friend_ for help when he obviously needed it. But now wasn’t that time.

 

Harry needed Louis to just be there right now.

 

When the nurse eventually came to take Harry off the ventilator – _deep breathe in, and out_ -

Louis was by his side, squeezing his hand in reassurance.

 

“Your throat is going to be sore for a while, so take your time with talking again,” the nurse instructed whilst fitting an oxygen mask around Harry’s head, “and this is just to help you out for a while.”

 

Louis pushed the hair away from Harry’s forehead as the boy rubbed at his empty throat. He couldn’t imagine how uncomfortable it must have been for Harry.

 

“Your mum is going to absolutely murder you when she finds out about this.”

 

Harry’s eyes widened comically at the mention of his mum.

 

~~~

 

Hours later, after a doctor had come by to check on Harry’s progress, Harry was allowed to be discharged. His blood alcohol had returned to only slightly over average, and he was no longer showing symptoms of alcohol poisoning, so they let Harry go, arms full of leaflets about the dangers of alcohol abuse and a follow up appointment booked with his GP.

 

When they arrived home, Louis tucked Harry into bed and retrieved soft foods from the kitchen under the nurse’s instruction. He was keeping himself busy, tidying up Harry’s bedroom, arranging the PlayStation controller and remote and his phone to make sure they were all in Harry’s reach. He knew that the conversation was going to happen soon, and he was trying to delay it, no matter how much he wanted it to happen.

 

“Niall and Liam are home soon, I think Zayn’s coming over too. Jess is in the kitchen and wanted to check on you, but I said to give you some space for a bit. You probably want to sleep, right?  I’ll stay as long as you want me.”

 

Louis next tactic for distraction: rambling.

 

“Lou, I’m so sorry.”

 

Harry’s voice was croaky and weak. Louis wasn’t expecting the conversation to come this quickly.

 

“Shush, get some sleep.”

 

Louis got on to the bed, onto Harry’s side so he wouldn’t bother his broken arm, and put his arm around Harry’s shoulders for him to cuddle into. Harry accepted the offer, and Louis soon realised his t-shirt was wet with Harry’s tears.

 

“I’m so sorry. I was so nasty and rude to you and you didn’t deserve any of it.”

 

“You were, and I didn’t, but let’s not talk about this yet. You need to get better first.”

 

Harry’s sobs got caught in his throat, still sore, and led into a coughing fit. He reached for his water bottle on the nightstand; Louis had ensured it was the one with the inbuilt straw for maximum ease.

 

It was quiet for a while: Harry took his time in regaining his breath, and Louis dragged his fingers across Harry’s scalp in the way he knew he liked.

 

“I was going through a lot,” Harry whispered, but Louis was quick to interrupt.

 

“I tried to help you Harry. All I wanted was to be there for you, but you wouldn’t let me.”

 

“Seeing you, hearing you, made it all a thousand times worse. I thought I was doing the right thing, for me. Didn’t even really talk to the other lad’s much, if that makes you feel any better.”

 

“It doesn’t.”

 

More quiet.

 

Louis silently wished that Harry would just go to sleep. It had been a long and difficult night, for the both of them, and having it all out whilst being marginally sleep deprived probably wasn’t the best idea. He didn’t want either of them to say something that they would regret.

 

The gods weren’t on his side today.

 

“Louis, I think I’m gay.”

 

It was a whisper, but Louis heard it loud and clear. He wasn’t given a chance to react before Harry continued, rambling like the floodgates had been opened.

 

“That’s a lie actually, I don’t know what I am. Definitely into boys though, well kinda. God this is so confusing. I mean, I know I like men too but not sure whether I like girls anymore, haven’t really thought about the logistics all that much, like all the different categories and that. Maybe it’s the specific person instead of like all men, that’s more likely. Just been thinking about you mostly, if I’m honest.”

 

Harry lifted his head from Louis’ chest to glance up at him. Louis could see the fear and apprehension plastered across his face. What Harry had just done, Louis had done many years before, and he knew exactly how it felt. How hard it was when you weren’t sure how people would react.

 

“I’m definitely into _you_ , Lou. That’s the one thing I’m certain about. Think I have been for a long time without realising it.”

 

Louis breath caught in his throat. He had thought about it, and he had thought about him being into Harry too, but it was very different to actually hear Harry saying the words.

 

Harry liked him.

 

Louis continued running his fingers through Harry’s hair, a half-assed attempt to show the boy he wasn’t annoyed or repulsed at his revelation whilst he tried to figure out what to say.

 

“S’not an excuse to act like you have though.”

 

Louis decided to give himself some more time to process.

 

“I needed to figure out what I was, what I am. You don’t understand how messed up my head has been these past few weeks, Lou.”

 

Harry yawned as sat up fully, crossing his legs to face Louis. He winced as he manoeuvred his broken arm into his lap, and Louis thought that they probably should have kept it in the sling whilst he slept.

 

Louis pushed himself up straighter against the pillows.

 

“And to do that you slept around and ended up putting yourself in hospital?”

 

He knew he was being sharp, maybe a little bit too nasty to Harry. But he was trying to give himself some time, and Harry needed to know exactly how Louis felt about the past month.

 

“Harry, I thought you had died or something that night! When Zayn came home and you weren’t there, all I could think is that you had left still drunk and upset and something had happened to you,” Louis paused, forcing the tears that were threatening to spill to not fall from his eyes. He couldn’t afford to lose his cool.

 

“That night left me with a lot of things to think about too, and I tried so hard to sort it out and spent so long checking that you were okay, and you didn’t even have the decency to text me. For over a month. You didn’t care that I was struggling too.”

 

Harry avoided Louis’ eyes by picking stray bits of plaster from his hand.

 

“I know I’ve been stupid, but it was the only way I could think of. I needed space. I needed to know whether if it was boys in general or if it was just you.”

 

“And…”

 

Louis waited for Harry’s reply with baited breath.

 

Time froze like it had done when Harry had first left that night for Louis. The future of his and Harry’s relationship, of their friendship, rode on the next words that left Harry’s mouth. Even if it didn’t seem like much, everything would change if Harry said what Louis wanted to hear.

 

“I’m still not sure,” Louis’ throat tightened, “but for now it’s definitely you. Hell, I think it’s always been you, I just didn’t put the pieces together. Everyone tells us we’re like a couple, anyway. Guess that should’ve been my cue.”

 

Harry spoke hurriedly. Louis pushed out the air from his chest. Everything was definitely going to change.

 

“People say that about Liam and Zayn too, and they’re not together.”

 

Louis wondered if Harry would notice he was somewhat avoiding the main topic at hand.

 

“Yeah but we get it a lot worse than they do, and they’re actually sleeping together.”

 

That caught Louis’ attention.

 

“What?! Since when?!” Louis voice went at least three octaves higher in shock.

 

“Not sure, a couple of months at least. Just a fuck buddy thing as far as I’m aware, but who knows.”

 

What a sneaky bastard Zayn was.

 

“I bloody live with the man; how did I not know about this?!”

 

Harry just shrugged, still picking at his cast.

 

Now Louis thinks about it, Louis was at Harry’s more often than not, and Liam was rarely there when he was. He hadn’t really thought about it much, presuming that Liam was just at the library or something, but he could have easily been at the flat with Zayn.  Good on the two of them for finally getting their shit together, took them long enough. Louis set himself a mental reminder to dig at Zayn about it when he went home.

 

“Look, Louis,” Harry’s words brought Louis away from thinking about his friends, “I think I love you. I think I always have been and it was easy to because you’re my best mate, but because I wasn’t sure about it, it was easy to pretend I wasn’t for a while. I mean, I couldn’t even go three weeks without you last summer, how sad is that.”

 

The air felt heavy for a second. It was as though Harry was finding fault with himself for how he felt about Louis, self-deprecating, and that was not what was meant to come out from this conversation.

 

“H, I missed you too. I was the one who drove across the country to see you. I wouldn’t have done that for anyone else.”

 

Louis’ voice was soft, and he was surprised when Harry sniffed into his sleeve. It was obvious he was tearful, but Louis didn’t feel like it was the right moment to comfort him. Not with the intensity of this conversation.

 

“Before that night, I hadn’t fancied anyone else for ages. Like, do you remember Eloise, and how much I freaked out about it, she’s the first person I’ve been with in like eight months maybe,”

 

That was new information to Louis. Even he had seen more action in the past year, and he wasn’t one to go out on the pull that often.

 

“Like, I’d always rather come home to have a cuddle with you on a night out. That should’ve been the first sign really. And then you kissed me-”

 

“ _You_ kissed me!” Louis scoffed, affronted.

 

“Well whatever, we kissed, and I liked it, Louis. I liked it and I was scared that I liked it because I’m scared to like you.”

 

The words hit Louis like a bullet to the heart. He would rather Harry had told him he didn’t like him at all, than saying that he didn’t like the feelings he did have. He couldn’t speak, tears now falling from his eyes too.

 

“I’m scared to not have you. I’m scared that you’re graduating and you’re leaving me because I don’t want to be at university without you here with me. I don’t know how to be me without you.”

 

Louis reached out his hands to wrap around Harry’s ankle. Both boys were crying. Harry had his injured arm held against his chest in pain.

 

“Do you want some more painkillers?’ Louis muttered.

 

Harry nodded, and Louis went to the kitchen to get Harry’s medication bag. There was so much new information in such a concentrated time period and Louis was struggling to deal with it. Twelve hours ago, he had been asleep and Niall hadn’t rung him yet, and since then, Harry had almost died and professed his love for Louis.

 

And Louis knew he felt exactly the same.

 

When he got back to Harry’s bedroom, Harry was repositioned against the headboard, cheeks red and eyes puffy. Louis passed him the bag and got under the covers next to him.

 

“I can’t remember which one I can take,” Harry huffed, getting frustrated that he couldn’t look through the bag properly with one hand and tipping the contents onto the bed.

 

“Here,” Louis passed him a blister pack of codeine, “two of these should help for now.”

 

Harry took the medication and put his head against the wall with an audible sigh. Louis tipped his head to the side to watch him, and Harry did the same.

 

Louis really wanted to kiss him.

 

“You won’t be without me.”

 

Harry’s brow furrowed.

 

“I’ve been offered the graduate position I applied for at that PR group in town. I’m here for at least another year. You would know if you hadn’t gone cold turkey on me.”

 

Slowly, secretively, Louis inched his hand across the bed and entangled his fingers with Harry’s. The boy’s eyes were drooping; lack of sleep and the medication were taking their toll on him.

 

“That’s amazing Lou, so proud of you.”

 

Louis needed to see something before Harry slept.

 

He inched his head forward, eyes glued to Harry’s face to see if he would react. Harry’s eyes shot open again when he realised what was happening. Louis rested his free hand on the junction between Harry’s neck and shoulder.

 

Harry moved in first. God, this was undoubtedly better than the first time. The sound of their mouths moving against each other filled the room. Soft, wet noises that perfectly matched each other’s pace. This time, Harry was the one to whine into Louis’ mouth.

 

This was more than six weeks of waiting to get to this moment. Louis realised that the entirety of the past two years, ever since Harry bowled into the kitchen at that house party, it had all been some odd method of extended foreplay.

 

Louis leant over Harry’s body, and untangled their hands to get a better grip on his neck, guiding their mouths and movements. He pulled away for a few seconds to catch his breath, instead directing his attention to Harry’s neck. The exasperated “fuck” he heard only encouraged him more.

 

Harry gripped Louis’s hip and pulled, encouraging him to move closer. Louis swung a leg over Harry’s moving to straddle his thighs. Their kisses were hot and quick, like they couldn’t bear to get any closer, and Louis’ lower half was definitely feeling the passion.

 

That was, however, until Louis missed the bed and accidentally put his knee onto Harry’s cast instead. Harry pulled back, face screwed up in pain and reciting a series of quick “ow, ow, ow’s”. Louis leapt backwards off of the boy.

 

“Sorry sorry sorry! Shitting fuck H.”

 

Louis stared, too scared to help or comfort in case he made the pain worse.

 

“Don’t worry about it, s’gonna take a while to get used to not having two hands.” Harry reached his good arm out, “come cuddle me please.”

 

Louis was happy to oblige, letting out a relieved chuckle. It was infectious to Harry, whose giggles set Louis off, and soon the two were pressed against each other under the covers and clutching their stomachs. It eventually dissolved into a comfortable silence.

 

Harry was the one to break it.

 

“You really want me?”

 

His face was soft, tipped up on Louis’ chest to make eye contact. Louis raked his fingers through the boy’s hair to push it away from his forehead.

 

“I’ve wanted you since the night we met. You’ve been stuck with me since and you’re stuck with me from now on.”

 

 

…………………………………………………………………………………………

 

 

Louis ran up the steps to the Grand Hall. He was so late. His supervisor had caught him just as he was about to leave, even though he was the one that authorised Louis to take the afternoon off, and Louis ended up having to change his clothes in the taxi. The driver got an extra tip for the hassle.

 

Fighting with his tie to get it to knot correctly wasn’t helping his rush. After flashing his ticket to the security, he peered through the disoriented glass to find the ceremony had already started. Shit.

 

As quietly as he could, he pushed the door ajar and slipped through. With it being an old building, and God obviously not being on his side today, the door creaked loudly, and Louis’ chagrin turned his cheeks crimson. The Chancellor making the opening speech on the stage ignored Louis’ entrance and managed to keep most attention to the front, allowing Louis to creep around the edge of the room in search of an empty seat.

 

There was a round of applause, yet another speaker, and Louis took that as his opportunity to squeeze down a row to claim a seat he had spotted. He sends a quick text when seated.

 

 **L:** _sat towards the back, sorry I’m late babe but I’m here. Proud of you x_

He silently curses immediately after he presses send, knowing that Harry will have probably given his phone to his mum, or at least turned it off, prior to the ceremony and wouldn’t see the message. Hovering just above his seat, Louis’ scans his eyes across the cohort of students in formal gowns to find Harry. He manages to spot a few people he recognised from Harry’s course and, following along the line, he could just about spot Harry’s hair poking out between the shoulders of those in front of them. Curse Harry for having a surname in the latter half of the alphabet.

 

Knowing Harry was there calms Louis, and he zones out for most of the ceremony until Harry’s course is announced.

 

“The following students are graduating with a bachelor’s degree in accounting and finance.”

 

Louis sat up in his seat, cheering alongside the audience in the appropriate places. As the relevant students stand and form a line, Louis gets his first proper glance at Harry.

 

His hair, which now laid well passed his shoulders, was tightly curled and slicked back on top. Louis just knew that Harry had spent far too long on his hair that morning, and that he had used the expensive curl mousse that he only brings out for special occasions. The lack of mortarboard was noticeable, but common as per university tradition. A peak of a ruffled collar – no tie, what a rebel – showed above the rental gown that hid the rest of Harry’s. Louis was sat too far back to make out the boy’s shoes, but he could guarantee Harry was wearing the lavish Gucci horse-bit loafers that he had drooled over for months before Louis gifted them to him as a joint 21stbirthday and first anniversary present. Even though the occasions were months apart, Harry was so happy that he cried with joy, calling them his prized possession.

 

Louis was in awe of the boy.

 

He can see Harry scanning the crowd and follows Harry’s eyesight to find Anne, significantly closer to the front than Louis on the opposite side of the hall. The boy looks slightly panicked, and Louis desperately wants to get the boy’s attention to prove to him that he is there.

 

The next name that is called out, Louis has never met the girl, but stands up and gives an overexaggerated cheer, clapping his hands wildly. He gets a lot of odd looks, but he wasn’t the only one celebrating the students, so he didn’t care. Harry spots him, laughing at Louis’ antics, and blows a kiss. Success. Louis shrinks into his seat for the remaining names before Harry, politely applauding the rest of the students.

 

Louis had suspected approximately ten minutes had gone by before they reached the ‘ _S’_ surnames.

 

_“William Sanderson.”_

_“Juliette Smith.”_

_“Jordan Stubbs.”_

_“Harry Styles.”_

Louis was up and out of his seat in a shot, hollering and cheering for his boy like he was in the stands of a football match. Harry glanced at him before turning to shake the hand of the Vice-Chancellor and receive his honorary certificate. A split-second turn to face his mum told Louis that Anne was on the ball with the photography and detailed instructions had been given to her son.

 

Harry walked along the stage, giving the customary nod to the academics. As he begins to descend the stairs, he gives a grin to Louis, who was still clapping passionately, and lifted his thumb up to the boy. It was their sign, and it made Louis happier than he’d like to admit. That’s his boy up there.

 

~~~

 

“That was utterly boring Harry. I can’t believe you managed to sit through that for me last year and still chose to attend Niall and Liam’s ceremonies last week, knowing full well how tedious it is.”

 

Harry makes an exasperated face at Louis’ mocking words and grabs the him with hands either side of his face.

 

“I thought you hadn’t made it,” Harry punctuated his words with small kisses to Louis’ lips.

 

“And miss my boy becoming a real accountant? Never in a million years.”

 

Louis kissed Harry properly, wrapping his arms around the man’s waist.

 

“M’not an accountant yet,” Harry mumbled against Louis’ lips.

 

“Don’t care, you are to me. So proud.”

 

Anne dragged the two of them away to get the usual pictures in front of the university building. Harry on his own, Harry and Louis, Harry and his family, a couple of weird poses thrown in to make light of the situation. She was crying, had been since the accounting students had been announced, and it didn’t look like she was planning to stop any time soon. Louis made note to check the photographs before he got them printed, and to get Emily from advertising to touch them up if needs be so Anne could get the perfect pictures she deserved.

 

It was an hour before they all finally left campus to head out to their dinner reservation in town. Louis kept Harry away from his family as they walked, wanting to talk to him in private.

 

“So, I have a little celebration of my own to tell you.”

 

“Oh yeah?”

Harry tightened his fingers around Louis’, swinging their hands as they walked.

 

“Jeff is leaving at the end of the month, and Ian pulled me into his office before I left. That’s kind of why I was late. Anyway, he said that my name has been floating around with the top bosses about taking over his role as Social Media Executive, which means I get to stay on at the office when my current contract is up.”

 

Harry stopped them in the street to give Louis a full body hug. Louis chuckled as Harry lifted him off the ground to swing him round.

 

“You’re staying in the city?! Louis that’s amazing! I’m so happy for you!”

 

“Wait, that’s not the celebration.”

 

Harry put Louis down, face expressing genuine curiosity. Louis pulled out a box from his suit jacket and handed it over.

 

“Congratulations on graduating, lovely.”

 

The box was small, and Louis knew exactly what it looked like. He couldn’t contain the smirk at Harry’s slight panic.

 

“Louis, baby, you know I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. But you better not be proposing to me right now, I’m gonna kick your ass if you are.”

 

“Just open the box, you fool.”

 

Harry gingerly lifted the lid. Inside the box, atop plush velvet, was a key. It was very generic looking; it could belong to a number of different things. Harry picked it up and inspected it, like he was waiting for something to jump out at him. Louis glanced to the side quickly to see Harry’s family had stopped walking, and Anne had her phone out to secretly film the pair.

 

“So, I’ve been speaking to my old landlord for a few months,”

 

Harry gasped, clutching the key to his chest.

 

“No fucking way.”

 

“And I eventually got him to agree to change the contract on mine and Zayn’s old flat from a student flat to a regular rental.”

 

Harry was crying.

 

“I’ve checked and it’s a twenty-five minute bus journey to your new office, and obviously I can still walk to work in town easily. I know you were living with Liam because I didn’t know if I was staying, but I planned get another job in the city if I wasn’t getting the promotion. So both Li and your mum have been helping me, and all the paperwork and stuff is ready for us. Harry Styles, I was wondering if you would like to move in with me?”

 

Glancing over to his mum, Harry glared at her, both shocked and betrayed.

 

“You knew about this? How did you manage to keep it from me!”

 

Turning straight back to Louis, Harry gathered the man in his arms again.

 

“Of course I will!”

 

Louis kissed Harry like there was no tomorrow, careless that they were in the middle of the high street on a busy Tuesday evening. It was strange for him to think that there was once a time that they couldn’t do that, it was so natural to them.

 

“C’mon,” Louis broke the kiss, running his fingers through Harry’s hair, and then started walking again with his fingers in Harry’s tight grip, “let’s get some fancy graduation food in my belly.”

 

 

 

 


End file.
